Zip Lines & Heartstrings

As July tiptoes toward its end, I find myself clinging to the warmth it brought—not just in temperature, but in spirit.

It began with a coastal getaway: Tom and I met up with our son, daughter-in-law, and grandkids on a quaint southern island. The highlight? Our teenage grandson charging through a 5K race and finishing strong amid 600 runners. His drive and determination not only lit us all up with pride but also inspired us with his determination to surpass his personal best time. That evening, we enjoyed a beautiful 4^th of July fireworks display on the beach. I imagined millions across the country celebrating the Holiday in very special ways, with friends and family traditions.

Arriving back home in Georgia, a new chapter unfolded. My brother and his family made the cross-country trek from Arizona, leaving behind the famous "dry heat" and bringing a whole lot of love with them. It had been far too long since we'd all been together. During their visit, we soaked up Atlanta's city pulse and savored the serenity of Blue Ridge. But the moment that stole the show?

Zip-lining.

Even getting to the first platform felt like an adventure. We traipsed up a 78-foot incline to the first zip-line platform. A gentle hot breeze danced through the trees, teasing what was to come as one by one, we launched.

Suspended high above the treetops, we zipped from platform to platform. We carefully crossed a wobbly wooden bridge that swayed with every step to reach the fourth platform, and then zipped above the treetops at speeds of up to 30 MPH. The last line stretched over 500 feet—a breathtaking flight over lush Appalachian terrain and tree canopies.

Our two teen nephews beamed with unshakable joy, their faces alight with fearless thrill. And believe it or not, the adults took to the skies right alongside them, feeling the same primal kind of exhilaration in gliding like a bird. It's an experience that awakens a deep, giddy stir within the soul. It made me feel as wide-eyed as the Wright brothers must have felt.

The rest of our time together was just as sweet. We played, talked (oh, the talking), and I cherished every moment with my sister-in-law, whose gift is seeing sunshine even in cloudy skies. My brother and I got lost in childhood memories, punctuated by him teaching me how to build the perfect meat and vegetable skewer. The smoky scent of grilled skewers filled the air, mouth-watering and wonderful.

This month gave me moments that will echo in my heart for years. So yes, July was hot. But it was also beautiful, messy, thrilling, delicious, and deeply meaningful.

 

Sing A Song

 This evening, nature hosted a quiet little drama in our driveway. Three sleek black birds gathered where the maple trees once stood, pecking at a few unsuspecting worms wriggling into the sunlight.

The trees, long past their glory, had recently been removed, making way for something new, perhaps, though the worms didn’t seem to be celebrating. As they surfaced from their disturbed earth and wiggled their way to the driveway, it was as if they’d wandered into the wrong story. Yet the birds were ready, grateful even.

Watching the impromptu feast unfold, my mind recalled the old nursery rhyme “Sing a Song of Sixpence,” where “four and twenty blackbirds” are tucked into a pie. True, it is a whimsical and strange rhyme, but it's etched in my memory from childhood. Only three birds graced our yard today, but they were enough to stir the same wonder in a deja vu moment.

Funny how upheaval (even the removal of ugly old trees) can lead to small blessings—tiny meals for tiny lives. The moment reminded me of Matthew 6:26: “Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?”

What a beautiful reassurance. Even when the world feels uprooted or uncertain, provision still finds its way—sometimes wriggling across a driveway. If the birds are cared for in such detail, how much more are we?

Heartbreak

This week’s catastrophic flooding in Central Texas has left the Nation reeling in sorrow and disbelief as torrents from the Guadalupe River surged with startling speed, claiming more than 100 lives.  The impact of this tragedy has been deeply felt across all ages, with heartbreak etched into neighborhoods and families.

Tiny tokens, such as stuffed animals, found among the debris, speak volumes about lives interrupted too soon. Countless prayers across the nation have been lifted, and continue to be lifted, to God for comfort and peace for the suffering. 

Amid the wreckage, the compassion of Texans shines: rescue crews, volunteers, and neighbors have united in remarkable efforts to comfort, search, and rebuild. Thank you, tireless responders, for working to ensure each victim’s memory is honored with care and dignity. 

 

 

After the Storm the Sun

Yesterday afternoon, I walked out of the grocery store into the sunshine and clear blue skies. But as I looked North, the sky was different. Dark clouds gathered in the distance streaked with flashes of lightning. A storm was forming in the area where I live.

I whispered a quick prayer for safety as I got on the road. Moments later, the rain came, sudden but light. The windshield wipers automatically kicked on.

 

After I pulled into the garage, the wind picked up, whipping through the trees and scattering flower petals everywhere. Then came the hail, small-sized, tapping against the house. And just like that, the power went out. I heard Tom sigh heavily; he’d just finished repairing the A/C after it gave out during the brutal heat earlier this week.

And then, as fast as it came, the storm rolled on. The skies cleared. The lights flickered back to life. The hum of cool air returned.

This morning, before the sun even peeked over the horizon, I heard birds singing. Their gentle tune felt like a message: You made it through. It reminded me of how grace quietly shows up each day, faithful and new, just as it says in Lamentations 3:22–23 (NIV).

These days feel heavy for our country. Pressures and uncertainty surround us. But even in the chaos, we can seek peace, knowing God is steady, our refuge, and provider. Philippians 4:19 reminds us of a  promise: “And my God will supply every need of yours according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.”

This July 4th, as we gather around the barbecue or stand in line at food trucks and later watch the fireworks in the clear evening sky, let us also celebrate a deeper kind of freedom. A freedom that goes beyond the political. A freedom of the heart, the mind, and the soul rooted in the grace of God who walks with us through every storm.

But I Can't Stay...

 

A tender, aching truth—time only waits until it doesn’t. 💙 

But I Can't Stay

"Mom, Dad, I’m running late," they sigh,

A kiss in the air, a wave goodbye.

Life moves fast, no room to slow, 

Too much to do, too far to go.

Meetings stack, alarms they chase, 

Emails flood, a frantic race. 

"I’d love to chat, but work won’t wait," 

the clock reminds them—tick, tick, late.

Carpool lines, reports to send, bills to juggle, texts to tend.

"This weekend’s full, I’ll call instead." Another promise fades away, lost within the busy fray.

Gym at dawn, phones at night, scrolling through the neon light. 

"I miss you so, but time’s so tight." Their voices fade into the night.

Parents wait, though years slip past, hoping someday, they stay at last.

But time relents—one final day,

They stand beside the bed where hair is gray. 

"I’m here now, I didn’t delay."

Withered hands reach—"But I can’t stay."

 ---c.k.sharpe

Healing Heart Hints

Spring cleaning—it’s one of those tasks that can lead you down unexpected paths. While sorting through boxes and memories the other day, I stumbled upon something truly special: an old, zippered Bible that belonged to my maternal grandmother. It was gifted to her for Christmas in 1946. That was barely a year after World War II. It was a time of hardship and rebuilding. Still, it was a time when people hoped their sacrifices were the beginning of a more peaceful and prosperous world.

I carefully opened the fragile pages of the Bible and discovered a hidden treasure. In it lay a folded, yellowed sheet of lined notebook paper. I can only guess what drew my grandmother to write on this page. Maybe she wrote these references because she yearned for strength, longed to nurture her faith in God, or was doing her part to restore faith in humanity during a time of great physical, mental, and spiritual challenge. Her heart seemed rooted in growth, in finding peace during life’s uncertainties. Here’s what I found written:

• If you have the blues, read the twenty-seventh Psalm.

• If your pocketbook is empty, read the thirty-seventh Psalm.

• If you are losing confidence in mankind, read the thirteenth chapter of Corinthians.

• If people seem unkind, read the fifteenth chapter of John.

• If you are discouraged about your work, read the one hundred twenty-sixth Psalm.

• If you find the world growing small and yourself growing great, read the nineteenth chapter of Psalms.

• If you cannot have your own way in everything, read the third chapter of James.

• If you are out of sorts, read the twelfth chapter of Hebrews.

Each line spoke volumes, timeless reminders that resonate even today. It’s remarkable how a simple list like this could offer a war-torn soul hope and guidance. Wouldn't you agree that this is still true today, no matter the era?

Finding this cherished piece of history was more than just a moment of cleaning; it was a moment of connection. It felt like my grandmother spoke through time, gently sharing wisdom and her faith with me.

Hues of Grace: Finding Eternal Truths in Life’s Fleeting Moments

 

                     A delicate bloom, kissed by the dew, 

Its petals unfold in soft, gentle hues.

A whisper of fragrance on morning's embrace,

Its fleeting existence, a moment of grace.

Like life, flowers thrive in the sun's warming glow,

Bend to the winds, and learn to grow.   ...C.K. Sharpe

 

    A flower's beauty is brief, yet life's truths are found in its brevity. Isaiah 40:8 says, "The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever." This verse is my favorite Bible verse. It emphasizes growth, change, and the eternal truths of life's fleeting moments. And, I think, in the flower's metamorphosis, it shows God's abundant grace.

Forgiveness?  Sometimes, I find forgiveness is a very difficult ask. But aren't we to echo the hues of God's grace within our fleeting moments here on earth?  I have found that forgiveness is one of the most challenging yet transformative acts in life. It often serves as the first step toward healing and growth, reflecting the grace God asks us to embody.

Overwhelmed? Been there, done that, as well. It’s a profound and honest struggle to echo God’s grace in our fleeting moments, especially when life feels intense. Scripture acknowledges this difficulty and offers guidance and reassurance for such times. For instance, when you have a minute, check out Isaiah 40:31. God promises to uphold us, even when we feel incapable of reflecting His grace. Leaning on Him in prayer and trust can provide the strength we need.

As I sit on my porch trying to ignore the green pollen, the verse from Isaiah powerfully reminds me of enduring truths amidst life's fleeting moments. It shows the circle of life that thrives, learns, and grows, even as its beauty is brief. The scripture reminds me of God's eternal grace and truth. Sometimes, this verse serves as a lens through which I can interpret my thoughts and actions and, yes, even write a poem. What moments in your life reflect the hues of grace? You may not write a poem about a favorite verse, but consider taking one of your "fleeting moments" and think if God's grace was involved in it. 

As a delicate bloom whispers its fragrance in the morning, may we too reflect God's grace in all our moments. I pray that His eternal truths anchor us, even as we bend to life's winds and learn to grow. 

Trust, Delight, Commit, and Rest

Dr. David Jeremiah said, “I remember walking into my office years ago when there was a blizzard of conflicting issues around me. Instead of sitting down at my desk in the chair, I said, “ Lord, that is your chair. I don’t know what to do with all the things that are going on. So I lay them down on this desk in front of You. I commit them to you.” Dr. David Jeremiah wrote these wonderful words in his study guide for “Encouraging Words for Discouraging Times.” This is a short, excellent Bible study...Maybe his words can help you as they are helping me.

God controls the future and can help us through any obstacle. I can’t rely on people to love me, but I can rely on God. As Easter approaches and we think of the One who gave his life for us, let’s remember to put our Hope in Him who loves unconditionally while we “Trust, Delight, Commit, and Rest.”  

 

DEER IN THE HEADLIGHTS LOOK

 

 You know how it is—those mornings when you try to rush and somehow get farther behind. Yep, I had one of those mornings. I was running late to a Bible Study on 'Encouraging Words For a Discouraging World' and feeling pretty smug after making sure there was plenty of gas in the car and that I could make it on time if I just stepped on the gas a little.
    As I was driving, I could feel a mean minion, a metaphor for the negative thoughts and emotions that find a weak spot and try to take control, trying to make me lose my cool, freak out, get bent out of shape, flip out—oh, whatever you want to call it. I had rounded a curve, and there it stood: a 'little Bambi' standing in the middle of the road, giving me the ultimate deer-in-the-headlights look. (A little early in the day for that, fella!) I quickly checked the rearview mirror, wondering where the critter's momma was, and then slowed down to let the little one decide if it would fight or flight. (cue me getting frazzled). It decided on the flight.
    Next up, a garbage truck was sitting cock-eyed in the middle of the road. Being a good Samaritan, I stopped to let him readjust his rig. Naturally, the guy decided he was going in my direction, and, you guessed it, he stopped at every garbage can along the way to the study (cue me getting bent out of shape).
    Then, I encountered many fallen tree limbs strewn all over the driver's lane. It was like Mother Nature had a little temper tantrum. There were enough branches to rival a small forest (maybe I'm exaggerating a little!) blocking my way, forcing me to maneuver around them. (cue me getting my feathers ruffled).
    Finally, I made it. After an enlightening class on 'Encouraging Words For a Discouraging World' (how fitting was that?), I started home, feeling a pang of guilt for my impatience. I was convicted and mumbled my apologies to the Lord as I made a left-hand turn toward home.
    And then, a beautiful sight greeted me. Spring flowers, not just once, but twice. Bright yellow daffodils reaching for the sky, exuding a joy for life. It was a reassuring gift, a reminder that if He cares about the flowers in the field, I'm also being cared for.

Who is Your Neighbor?

Have you found 2025 has brought plenty of opportunities to be a good neighbor? Events happening in our world this year are getting up close and personal. We’re finding out our neighbor isn’t just the person living next door; it’s anyone you encounter daily. It’s the colleague at work, the stranger you pass on the street, and even the individual on the other side of the globe.

I watched the President and First Lady meet with folks of  N. Carolina on the 24th. It was so cold there it gave me goose bumps watching the T.V. screen.

The unhurried President exuded interest, compassion, and warmth for those displaced by Hurricane Helene.  The stories of those affected by the floods brought tears to my eyes. I heard one common theme in the North Carolinian stories. They thanked God for the mercy they had received by Him personally. A woman spoke of a church God had prepared in advance to meet the needs of others. One spoke of the people He sent from other states to assist devastated communities. Another appreciated the spiritual leaders He provided in their time of vulnerability. The praises went on and on. 

Who is a neighbor? California fires and the helicopter-jet crash yesterday made it clear. Each person you touch positively with your actions and words is your neighbor. I’m sure glad the LORD God is our sovereign “neighbor.” We can count on Him showing up in a big way, every day, no matter the circumstance.